Bete Noire
by Angelhaggis
Summary: A heartbroken Stella leaves the crime lab for a fresh start. But when an old foe reappears and Mac discovers that Stella never went to New Orleans, can he finally admit his feelings and save Stella from a truly evil madman?
1. On the Outside

**A brief warning before you commence with the story: some of the actions of the characters may be OOC as I no longer watch as much CSI:NY as I used to, particularly following Stella leaving. But this plot bunny just would not let me be and so I felt I had to write it. I should also mention that there is some content in this story which some readers may find distressing, particularly in the later chapters.**

**And with that done; now it is time to begin...**

* * *

Stella Bonasera was an accomplished woman. Highly intelligent, beautiful, fearless and with a successful career: she was an example to all and many people envied her apparently perfect life. This however was all an illusion. Although on the outside she appeared confident, happy, assertive, even content; on the inside she was awash with raw pain, hurt and isolation. Even with the love from her team who were in every respect her family, the only real family she had ever had, she felt completely isolated as though she never really belonged anywhere.

It was as though her entire life she was on the outside looking in, she thought grimly as she watched the team in the break room, having a well-deserved rest following the many hours they spent examining the smallest details on every since piece of evidence that they processed. It never failed to amaze Stella how the smallest piece of evidence often was the key to solving an entire mystery.

Her mouth quivered into a smile as she observed her family. Danny and Lindsay sat next to each other; Lindsay leaning on her husband as she craftily sliced an apple. Both partners were laughing obviously at some joke Adam was telling them as he sat next to them, gesturing dramatically whilst also laughing.

Further along the table sat Hawkes and Sid- both men were intently discussing some new medical advancement, each taking turns to offer their opinion whilst the other listened, nodding in agreement.

Even Flack and Angell were there, having taken a break from their pile of casework and as usual were flirting with each other whilst also finding time to laugh at whatever Adam was joking about.

And of course sitting at the top of the table, watching his CSIs with an amused expression on his face, was their leader Mac Taylor.

As it had done so for many years, Stella's heart jumped as she watched the former marine. He was handsome- thought of as extremely attractive to the many women that turned their heads to get a better glance as he passed- as well as intelligent and strong- both physically and mentally.

Yet despite this, there was a wall around him; a detachment which Stella knew was partly in his nature and partly due to the tragic loss of his beloved wife Claire in 9/11. He would never get over Claire's death, this she knew, and he had shown it through the failure of what had been a promising relationship in Peyton Driscoll. Even after spending twelve years as his partner to Stella, Mac Taylor was still very much an enigma; he was alone yet surrounded by those who loved him.

Stella quickly walked on before any of the team would notice her. She hid it well; the sadness, the pain. She had been doing it her whole life so much so that it had become a part of her. It wasn't that she wanted to be this way-far from it in fact. She wanted to be happy, to be loved like any normal person. But it was not to be. Stella had long ago realised it and accepted it. However this acceptance did not make the heartache any easier. She lived with the pain day in, day out-she could do nothing about it as she saw the source of this heartache everyday and although she pretended she was alright, happy even, she was dead on the inside. And it was all to do with one man.

It had been just her luck to have fallen in love with a man she could never have. A kind, intelligent, great man. A man who was compassionate and passionate. A man who would never love anybody as worthless as her. Stella had loved him for years; since the first day they had met and yet he had no clue. The heart-wrenching, intolerable love for him had been so tightly locked up inside her heart, never to be thought of or spoken of. S

he knew he would never return her feelings; they were friends and that was all they ever could be. And it was out of her love for him that she hid her feelings and put on a brave face each day even though she cried herself to sleep every night. It was painful; she felt like she was being smothered every time he was near her or they worked together and as time went by it was slowly killing her.

Stella could not go on; she knew she would have to leave and so she had made the hardest and most painful decision of her life. She was going to resign. The letter was written, in its envelope, ready to be personally delivered to Chief Sinclair as soon as she had a spare minute. It had taken her hours to decide how to word it and she had discarded many copies. In the end what she had said was simple; that as much as she loved the lab and would miss it, she needed to find new challenges and that she was resigning with immediate effect.

And it was true: she would miss the lab. It had been her life for the past decade. She would miss all the team; she would still see them, she was sure, but it wouldn't be the same. They would be confused, upset and angry but over time they would learn to accept it and her replacement whoever he or she would be. But most important of all she would miss Mac Taylor the man who she was utterly and irrevocably in love with.

* * *

Mac Taylor was no idiot. He knew something was up with his second in command. She was quieter, less energetic and he had noticed she was exhausted, with deep circles under her eyes. Mac had even, once or twice at crime scenes, caught her with an almost sadness about her as though she was carrying a world of pain. He was worried but said nothing. He knew Stella could take care of herself; she was a born fighter. It was what had first drawn her to him when he interviewed her; that and her wild curls and piercing green orbs. And she had proved she was a fighter time and time again through conflicts with suspects, the HIV scare, the incident with Frankie, the incident in Greece...Stella really was the strongest person he knew.

Mac knew he was emotionally distant but Stella was always there for him; right by his side. She was the reason he breathed. He would have long ago given up if it hadn't been for Stella. She was everything to him. He loved her; had done for years but he knew she would never love him in return. Why would she? She was worth much more than him. He had long ago come to accept this, knowing that he was like a stranger looking in to Stella's life- he would always be on the outside. And Stella knew she would always be on the outside of his.

* * *

**I am not entirely satisfied with this chapter but it serves as an introduction to what is coming next. Reviews are always appreciated. **


	2. China in Your Hand

**This chapter was inspired by the song 'China in Your Hand' by T'Pau. Contains dialogue from the episode '**_**Grounds for Deception'.**_

* * *

Mac Taylor was fuming. He was absolutely incandescent with rage. Never before had he felt so furious at one of his CSIs and never in a million years would he have ever thought that Stella would incur such wrath, such fury from him.

He had known something was up when Chief Sinclair had arrived at his office just after four pm, requesting a private meeting, his face guarded as though he was worried about Mac's reaction. Out of all the possibilities that had crossed his mind from job losses to budget cuts to a complaint, Stella resigning had been furthest from his mind.

The shock had come first-even Sinclair had expressed it- and then came the rage. His CSIs in particular, Danny, Lindsay and Hawkes, knew something was up by the cold way Mac had dismissed them early from their shift.

And now it was around nine, the night shift were busy and Mac waited, seething, for the woman in question.

A knock on his door alerted him to her arrival.

'You wanted to see me.' Stella's voice was cheerful, no indication that she knew the reason she had been summoned. She had just assumed he wanted to discuss a case or budgets with her.

Without saying anything, he turned to face her, his eyes blazing furiously, her resignation letter clasped tightly in his left hand. Stella, on recognising it, gasped and her heart thudded wildly in fear as she realised Mac knew and that he was furious.

'Care to explain this?' His voice was cold.

'I...I...this isn't how I wanted you to find out.' Stella tried to explain; never having seen Mac so angry in all the years she had known him, not even during some of their more heated fights. He was incredibly beautiful when he was angry. His eyes burned darkly and his mouth was pulled almost into a ferocious grimace as if he tasted something inherently unpleasant. Even though the anger was directed at her she couldn't help the feelings that were pulsing through her blood, causing her to become weak at the knees.

'Yes I could tell.' Mac retorted icily. 'I'm guessing that if you had your way I'd have found out after you left!' He couldn't help but raise his voice. 'Why Stella?' His eyes probed hers for an answer but she remained guarded.

'As I said in my letter Mac', she spoke slowly, an annoyed tone underlying her words, 'I want new challenges. I've been here twelve years! It's time for a change-to get new blood in. I'm not exactly a young woman anymore.' She hoped her lie was good enough for someone as good an investigator as Mac to believe.

'And you didn't think about coming to me?' Mac reprimanded. 'You could have asked me for different cases...or for a temporary transfer... or a liaison post! You should have talked to me Stella!' He shouted, pointing at her, showing his disappointment in her; something which pierced right through her and this coupled with her heartache at being so close to him yet so far, she snapped.

'That is so rich coming from you, Mac Taylor. You never include anybody in your life and yet you expect to me included in mine?! You're ridiculous! You bottle up all your emotions; never letting anybody else in. Oh it's ok for you just to leave for London or Chicago but the minute someone else does the same you call them into your office for a lecture!' She shouted back at him.

'You've resigned Stella!' Mac snarled. 'You're my second in command; you're supposed to talk to me. You're my employee and I also thought you were my friend! You can't just leave without us finding you a replacement!' He knew his arguments were childish but he was damned if he was going to admit the truth: that he would be beyond heartbroken if she left and that he couldn't cope without her.

Stella, deeply hurt that that was all he thought about, reacted fiercely, 'Oh and that is what this is really about! This has nothing to do with me wanting a change-to you this has everything to do with the fact you're short-staffed and are annoyed you have to deal with the paperwork! You don't care about the fact that I'm leaving all you care about is the precious lab!'

'That's not true Stella and you know it!' He yelled at the top of his voice, clenching his fists in anger at the infuriating woman in front of him.

Now, the entire workforce that was in the lab was silent, listening to their two bosses-the two most well-natured, calmest people they knew, lose it with each other in a hurtful and fiery exchange of words.

'Do I Mac?' Stella demanded fiercely; her eyes glinting passionately and her curls swinging about her face in a manner which-had he not been so angry-would have made him grab her and kiss her fiercely. In that precise moment she looked like some fabled Greek warrior queen about to charge into battle. 'All you care about is the lab! Your whole life revolves around the lab Mac! And what's worse is you make everybody else's life revolve around the lab. I love the lab Mac really I do but I can't continue on like this. I'm sick of always putting my needs second! I want to live. I don't want to be alone for the rest of my life.'

'You're being ridiculous Stella.' Mac shouted.

'No I am not. I'm sick of this Mac, I'm sick of all of this. I can't keep going on pretending that everything is alright in my life.' She waved her hands about emphasizing her point.

'Sick of what Stella? Being in the lab-yeah I think I got that from this letter.' Mac spoke sarcastically. He pointed directly at her, 'You owe me an explanation, something better than what you are giving me here!'

'What do you want me to say Mac?' Stella yelled at him.

'The truth!' He spat.

'Fine you want the truth?' Her eyes blazed angrily, 'Then here's the truth: I don't want to be around you anymore Mac! I can't be around someone who is constantly emotionally distant, someone who never shows any feelings for anybody else- someone who can't trust in others!'

Stella knew that she was dangerously close to spilling her darkest secret but she no longer cared; Mac had made her angry and she needed to defend herself.

'I can't trust in others!' Mac fumed and then raised his voice further, 'I'm not the one Stella who pursued Sebastian Diakos-which you were warned against doing, with Angell, thus endangering her career too!' He couldn't help but think about the Diakos case, which even now, made his temper flare at the danger Stella had brought on herself and he remembered the fight they had had then, which was nothing in comparison to the one he now was in the midst of.

'_You lied to me Stella.' His voice was cold._

'_It wasn't my intent.'_

'_Then why didn't you tell me you found Sebastian Diakos dead? I had to find out from NYPD communications. I gave you a direct order to leave the Diakos investigation to me. You chose to ignore it!'_

_Stella felt like one of his soldiers being reprimanded, 'I made a decision Mac and frankly I would make the same decision again.' Mac was taken aback by her comment. 'I got a tip he was on the move so I took action.'_

'_What you did was make it personal.' Mac's voice was low._

'_It is personal...he tried to kill me!'_

'_You've stepped way out of bounds on this one and you know it! You're a detective! And you make an anonymous call alerting the police to Diakos's apparent murder. That's grounds for suspension or at least a desk assignment! Do you have any idea the position you put me in?'_

'_Oh yes I do. You know what I'm going to make this easier for you.' And Stella slammed her badge down on his desk before striding fiercely off._

The only difference, in his mind, was now Stella really was resigning.

Stella for a moment was stunned into silence before she fiercely retorted, 'That was low Mac, really low! I can't believe you brought the Diakos case back up! What's next huh? Bringing up the complaints on my record...or bringing up what happened with Frankie because I'm sure in your mind that must be my fault too!'

'Don't be so stupid Stella!' Mac snarled.

'Stupid? Is that what you think of me?' The hurt on her face was evident.

'That's enough Stella!' Mac snapped at her.

'Yes your right it is enough Mac. I'm done...I'm finished. I can't deal with you anymore. I can't deal with your emotional distance. I can't deal with you never confiding in me.'

Mac was incensed. 'I don't confide in you? What about you not confiding in me about your HIV scare huh?'

Stella shrieked at him in response, tears now freely running down her tears but Mac didn't care; he was beyond hurt and angry, 'You never confide in me Mac. You confide in all your petty girlfriends- Peyton, Aubrey...but never Stella oh no...Stella isn't good enough to have the confidence of Mac Taylor. Oh no Stella just needs to be kept in the sidelines.'

'I have never put you second Stella-never! I always put you first!' He was shocked by the direction the argument had turned and he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

'Do you Mac? Tell me then, when was the last time you asked me how I was feeling? Or the last time we went out for drinks? Or even the last time you had a spare minute just to talk between cases?'

At Mac's blank stare she just laughed, 'No exactly. You don't have time for me. You have time for everybody else! I'm sick of it Mac! I'm sick of you! And you know what sickens me most...is that you can't even see what's in front of you and you can't even live because you are so heavily influenced...so obsessed with your dead wife!'

The sting of the blow from Mac's hand shocked her into silence. Stella was stunned as she placed her hand upon her cheek which was a bright angry red, feeling the warmth from the blow. With tears rolling down her cheeks she looked to Mac who stood, inches from her, his face a fiery mask of hatred. 'Don't you ever, ever speak about Claire like that again!' His voice was low and harsh, piercing Stella's heart like a thousand knives.

'Get out of my office!'

Stella, still in a daze, looked at him and then spat out her words, 'I hope I never see you again. Goodbye Mac Taylor.' And with the fierce strides he used to so adore, she left his office and, ignoring the many faces which watched her in absolute shock, she walked out of his life.


	3. Memories

The lab had not been the same since Stella left. It was quieter and more subdued without her infectious smile and vibrancy. Everybody- from the senior detectives, to the CSIs, to the labrats and even the cleaners and guards- missed Stella. It was like a light had been extinguished in the lab. In the four months since her resignation the lab had utterly changed. Even the arrival of Stella's well-liked replacement Jo Danville was not able to heal the wounds of her departure.

News had travelled fast in the immediate aftermath of the fight and it had not been long until the CSIs had found out. They had been utterly shocked by what the nightshift had told them. Although not privy to the fact that Mac had struck Stella, they were still shocked by the fierceness of the fight. Sure, Mac and Stella had fought before but never before like this and with such devastating consequences.

Angrily, they had confronted Mac but he had been silent on the matter, the anger -and as Lindsay noticed- the hurt, was still very raw. And in the four months since her resignation, Mac had not discussed the row nor had he indeed discussed Stella, an action which had stunned everybody. There was no trace of her left in the lab- her office and her locker had been cleared and that coupled with Mac's refusal to discuss it, made it seem as though she had never even existed. All they had left was their memories.

Immediately after they had discovered Stella had resigned; Flack and Lindsay had gone around to her apartment, to support her and to confront her but instead, much to their shock, her next-door neighbour had informed them that Stella had sold the apartment and that she had moved away. Despite a large amount of investigation, they had been unable to find any trace of Stella's whereabouts in New York. In fact it was as though she had vanished off of the face of the earth.

It had taken two months after her resignation before rumours started circulating that Stella was the head of the New Orleans crime lab-something which they could not confirm and they all suspected that Mac had not bothered to ascertain. It was as though he had washed his hands of Stella and even though they knew some of what had been spoken between them and that Stella had been out of line, they also knew that Mac was being unpardonably cruel. After all, this was Stella-his partner, his best friend and as the CSIs had long suspected something a little bit more.

There had always been something about their partnership, the CSIs knew that. It was impossible to work together almost every day for twelve years and not have a connection; this Flack and Angell, and Danny and Lindsay knew from personal experience. But the CSIs, from their observations of the couple, had always wondered and sensed that perhaps there maybe was a little more to it than just being partners. Indeed some people they had dealings including witnesses or even perpetrators of crime had automatically assumed that Mac and Stella were together only to be very surprised when their claim was denied. And it had often left the CSIs-none more so than Angell and Lindsay- wondering why Mac and Stella were not more than just partners.

But now all the hopes, all the dreams, all the rumours had perished because of the fight. Nobody on the team dared to confront Mac and so life continued at the NYPD lab- but without Stella.

* * *

Jo Danville was no idiot. She could see the effect Stella's departure had had on the team. She had been worried to begin with that she would not be accepted as part of the CSI family, who were immersed in grieving for their lost member. But she was wrong; they had welcomed her into the family with open arms and for that she was grateful. She proved to be a great addition and her and Mac hit it off well as partners.

However, despite her friendship with Mac, he was reluctant to talk about her predecessor. When she addressed him on lab procedures Stella had set up, he had given her one or two word answers, and she had become quickly aware that Stella Bonasera was an area which Mac Taylor was not willing to address.

Jo had also noticed that Mac seemed reluctant to join in conversation with the team in the break room and when she queried it with Lindsay, the entire room had quietened before Lindsay explained that since Stella's resignation he no longer spent as much time with his CSIs. Jo was curious to know about her predecessor; to understand the woman whom they all grieved for so much. Of course she had heard the lab gossip about the blow-up between Mac and Stella and she had also heard the rumours about Mac and Stella's relationship and it had only increased her curiosity.

Although she had only been at the lab for a short time, it was obvious to her that Stella had been more than just a partner to Mac. Jo knew that she would never be viewed the same as Stella and she was alright with that; the CSIs were a family, a family which had shared everything together and she was grateful that she had been accepted at all. Already she felt like a part of that family and because of this, she too wished that Stella would return.

* * *

To Lindsay, Stella was the mother-figure of the CSIs. She had been the one they went to when they had problems or needed advice and Lindsay had taken it for granted, thinking that Stella would always be there for them and that was what made her resigning so shocking. Lindsay greatly missed Stella. Jo was kind and had a good sense of humour but she could never match Stella. It had nearly broken her heart when she had to tell Lucy that Auntie Stella had left; the young girl not quite understanding the implications of her words, but tears springing to her eyes as she knew that whatever it meant was bad.

What perplexed Lindsay though was the fact Stella never mentioned wanting a change- especially that of leading her own lab and the suddenness of it all shocked her. One day Stella had been there and the next she was gone. What made it worse though was Mac's behaviour. It was like he wanted to forget all about her; an action which, despite the fight they had had, was still harsh and out of character. Lindsay just hoped that one day soon Mac would wake up to his mistakes and go after Stella. But until that day, Lindsay would keep the memories of the fiery Greek alive.

Lindsay remembered the confusion, tiredness and bewilderment of her first few days at the lab and she knew that had it not been for Stella's support she would not have been able to cope with the pace.

_Stella handed Lindsay a tissue to mop up her coffee which she had accidentally spilt on the worktop. 'Oh, thanks!' Lindsay smiled gratefully._

'_No problem.' Stella smiled in response. _

'_Let me give you a tip. Protein bars, comfortable shoes, and at least four hours of sleep a night.'_

'_Well that's not going to help me today. Mac wants these now.' She glanced down to the reports._

'_No Mac wants them right. That's all that matters.'_ _Stella shot her a supportive look, and smiled warmly causing Lindsay to smile back._

Stella was also the one she had confided in about her past as the survivor of the massacre of her friends and instead of judging her, which was what Lindsay had expected, she had again been a great support. Stella was always there; even in Lindsay's darkest and most uncertain moments. When she had found out she was pregnant it was Stella who had been the first she had gone to for advice.

_Lindsay stopped Stella when she started to walk out of the lab. 'Stella! Aren't you the uh... the official safety officer at the lab?'__  
__'Yes that is my proud unpaid position. Why?'_

'_Well I've got this um...friend, she works in a forensics lab in New Jersey, and...she's pregnant.' _

'_Oh, good for her.' Stella nodded, watching Lindsay suspiciously. _

_'Yeah, except she is really nervous because you know all the chemicals and processes that we do, you know that could really harm the development of the baby, right?'_

'_That's true. But there is also so many different safety protocols in place. Goggles, face shields, fume hoods. I mean not to mention the training and retraining we have to go through. I'm sure she'll be fine.'_

_Lindsay nodded. 'Seems like she's in a little over her head.'_

'_Well she's not alone, right? I mean, the baby has a father?' Stella questioned carefully._

'_Yeah, yeah and he is great. It's just... you know I don't really know how ready he was for any of this so... well it's complicated.' _

'_And beautiful. . Listen Lindsay, umm... I'm sure if your friends' co-workers are anything like yours, they'll understand the situation and work with her, even be happy for her. It's gonna be okay.' The way that Stella looked at her as she spoke told Lindsay that she knew it was her they were talking about._

_'Thanks.'_

'_You're welcome. Hey, umm... tell your friend congratulations.' And then Stella had walked away, her curls bouncing fiercely, leaving a much less worried Lindsay behind._

* * *

Lindsay was not the only one missing Stella. Danny still could not get over the fact she had gone. He had, like his wife, believed that Stella would always be there, supporting them all. She was one of his most beloved friends- a woman who completely understood him and who in some respects, was like a sister to him. She had been the only one along with Mac that Danny had asked to attend his and Lindsay's wedding and she had been a great support during the darkest moments when he faced the possibility of being paralysed for life.

_'Hey. On your own two feet and looking good, Messer.' Stella beamed as she came out of her office._

_'Not bad, huh? First the wheelchair, now no more cane. Done.'_

_'Yeah. You know, that was one of the scariest moments, and I'll never forget it when you said you couldn't move your legs.'_

_'When I saw the blood on my hands, I mean, I thought that was it.'_

'Yeah, well, it wasn't your time.' Stella smiled solemnly, relieved beyond all imagination that one of her closest friends had survived.

Even when she did not necessarily support a decision he made, she supported him and that was what, in his mind, made Stella a truly great person. He remembered back to one particular incident when Danny had faked an illness in order to join the city wide police strike.

_Danny opened the door to find Stella standing there, holding a brown paper bag. 'Jewish penicillin.' _

_He laughed awkwardly. 'I'm not sick, Stella.'_

_'You like chicken soup, don't'cha?'_

_He hesitated for a moment then smiled slightly. 'I could never say no to a little chicken noodle.'_

_'Then invite me in.'_

_He stood back, allowing Stella entry into the apartment._

_'You know, I came over here to yell at you.' She said, pointing at him._

_'Stella, we deserve to get paid. Come on, cops work hard in this city, you know. I mean, the Brass, they're not working for free so why the hell should I? You know I'm right. Come on, pull up a spoon.'_  
_  
__'I'm old school, Danny. You know, I took an oath and I take it literally. My responsibility is first and foremost to the people of this city and the job that I do'. _

_'That's exactly why I'm holding out for a little respect. I mean I come from a family of cops, Stell, I'm not taking this thing lightly.'_

_'Yeah, I know, I know, I know.' She walked away from him, placing the bag on the counter. 'Look I guess, I guess, it just took me driving over here to understand it all. People were crazy. They were getting out of their cars, it was chaos...there were no traffic cops._

_'So you were coming over here to lay into me, yeah?'_

_'Yeah I was on my way to lay into you! I was so pissed off, Danny. Hawkes stood in for you at that hearing and they threw the case out. And there was so much work at the lab. Thank God for Lindsay, you know, she's a real trooper.'_

_'Yeah, yeah, she is. She's been calling me every other hour. Except I got to cough every time I answer the phone in case it's not her.'_

_They were silent for a moment but then Stella spoke again, 'You did the unpopular thing.'_

_Danny chuckled, 'Me? That's my M.O., right?'_

_Stella palmed his cheek. 'Ah, look, I got to get back to work, but I'm not leaving here without some of that soup, so how about you fix me up one to go please?_

_'Sure.' Danny smiled. _

He had known Mac and Stella for a long time and he could see the effects this was having on Mac, even if their boss remained tight-lipped. Stella had been the only one he had ever known Mac to open up to and like Lindsay, Danny knew that Mac needed to find Stella and tell her how much she meant to him.

* * *

Stella was Adam's idol. She was fearless, funny and incredibly intelligent. She had always made him feel good about his abilities and he would never forget the extraordinary coup she had pulled off in order to save his job- by getting the rest of the team to cancel their leave. It was a perfect example of the type of woman Stella was. She always put the needs of others before her own. Adam smiled to himself as he remembered one conversation they had had together where they had searched through the databases to find people who shared their names after a case involving various Mac Taylors.

_'What are you still doing here?' Stella asked him as she walked over to his computer. _

_'Oh, some friends of mine stood me up for pizza so just down on top of things, ya know.'_

_'Mind if I join you?'_

_'Oh, no, no, please.' Adam gestured and Stella sat down next to him._

_'Okay, so what do we got? That doesn't look like work.' She smiled._

_'It really isn't. I was just curious. You know there are three Sheldon Hawkes in New York state and there are ten Danny Messers.'_

_'Ten?' Stella asked surprised. 'Don't tell Danny that.'_

_'There's also another six Adam Rosses and there's eighteen in New York state. I was just sitting here wondering, you know, what do they look like or what kind of lives do they live, you know?_

_'Alright, what about me?'_

_'Uh, Stella Bonasera. There's only one.' He glanced to her. _

_'Trust me, that's enough. Let's try Sid.' She searched the database. 'It's a ninety-year-old woman.'_

_Adam laughed, 'I think he was named after his mother.'_

_'Alright, Don Flack.'_

_'Don Flack.' Adam repeated._

_'Oh, six!' Stella exclaimed._

_'Wow, six Don Flacks. I like that name. Don Flack.' Adam spoke in a deep voice and Stella laughed, her melodious laughter making him laugh too._

He wished Stella would return but until then they had to carry on, no matter the difficulty in doing so.

* * *

Over the years, Hawkes had come to view Stella as a close friend and her resignation had proved to be baffling, even for the mind of a genius. He had heard the rumours spreading around the lab about her conflict with Mac yet none of it made sense. Why would Stella choose now to leave? He missed her, that was certain. Stella possessed a wicked sense of humour which had often helped him stay sane when facing evil and horrifying sights day in and day out.

As he washed his hands following a particularly nasty experiment, he found himself thinking about some of the memories he had of Stella.

_'I knew this would be a no-brainer for you.' Stella said to him, as he looked over a fried brain._

_'She didn't just say that.' _

_'She did.' Both Mac and Flack said at the same time._

* * *

Interrogating suspects, chasing suspects, working on leads...it had become almost meaningless for Flack without Stella. He had lost his partner in crime, the woman who joked with him and who could make the best out of a bad situation. They had been friends for years, supporting each other through the ups and downs of life-for Stella the Frankie incident and for him the bombing which so nearly claimed his life.

They had such a strong friendship that Stella often confided in him and this made her mysterious resignation all the more harder to bear. He was not going to deny that he was angry but he was also confused and he wanted answers. However Flack was also angry at the pair for their inability to read each other. For the two best investigators in New York, they were blind when it came to examining themselves. Flack saw the way the pair looked at each other, and knew that it was more than just feelings of friendship that made their partnership so effective.

_Stella was crouched over the body. 'Who discovered the body?' Both Stella and Mac asked at the same time and Stella turned around to face Mac, flashing him a wide smile._

_Flack watched the looks the pair gave each other before raising his eyebrows. 'You two've been working together way too long. A student came in looking for her keys and "boom".' _

_Mac raised his eyebrows at the detective. 'Boom? You and Danny have been working together way too long.'_

Angell had often commented on it with him. But Don knew that he could do nothing to persuade the stubborn Mac Taylor but until Mac realised what he had lost, Flack would continue to think about Stella.

* * *

As each CSI continued about their work throughout the weeks and months since Stella's departure, they kept their memories with them, remembering the tears and the laughter they had shared with the feisty Greek. Even if she was no longer at the lab in person, she would always be there in spirit. But it did not stop them from worrying about where she was. Until Stella returned they knew that things at the crime lab would not be the same. Breaking the others from their silence as they sat at the bar, thinking of Stella, Adam raised his glass. 'To the one who is not with us tonight. To Stella, wherever she may be.'

The others grabbed their glasses and toasted, 'To Stella.'

* * *

**I would like to thank all those who reviewed the last chapter- it is very much appreciated. I have to admit this chapter was not my strongest but hope that you still enjoyed it nonetheless. This chapter was inspired by the song 'Memories' by Within Temptation. **


	4. Lost

**This is somewhat of a filler chapter before the main case begins.**

* * *

Mac Taylor was a broken man. Ever since the devastation of 9/11 he had been a shell. Losing Claire had plucked his heart from his chest and he had spiralled into a state of depression and emptiness; surviving yet not actually living. Stella had been the only light in the insufferable darkness. She had always been there; right beside him, supporting him every day. She was his best friend; his partner, the one person whom he could always count on-no matter what.

But not anymore.

Stella was gone; resigned for reasons he could not begin to understand. For him, the anger was still very raw. How dare Stella say such a thing about beautiful, innocent Claire? How dare she accuse him of not allowing her to have a life? He could not understand this. Why now? If Stella really had been feeling this way why was it only now that she told him? He knew that he was using the anger to partially mask the pain he was feeling. Stella had just walked out of his life with no explanation. There was no reasoning.

Mac's mind was filled with a kaleidoscope of thoughts, emotions and memories that revolved around Stella; it was like she possessed him, constantly invading his thoughts and dreams. It was as though he was lost without Stella.

He was already withdrawing back behind the well-constructed emotional barrier that had been part of him since 9/11 and which had slowly been eroded by Stella's care and friendship. Already Mac knew he was distancing himself from his team as a coping mechanism, to avoid any others leaving like Stella had.

Mac was in a paradoxical situation; he desperately did not want to think about Stella yet he could not help but think of the Greek woman. This was the reason he had not dared to check if the rumours were true that she now headed up the New Orleans lab. It would be something final; showing him that she really was never coming back. The part of him that was still incandescent with her, however, did not care where she ended up.

After all the hurt she had caused, she didn't deserve any ounce of his concern.

Always dependable Stella had gone. No more did the sound of Greek curses fill the lab air; nor did the sight of her forest of curls swaying along as she strode through the lab on the way to a scene or to apprehend a suspect. It was still surreal to not have her constantly by his side; to face the dangers and triumphs of each day in one of the world's busiest cities. Mac knew he had taken her for granted; her friendship, their work relationship. And he had only realised it once she had gone. They had taken care of each other; it was what they did.

_They held the coffee cups in their hands as they sat on the waiting chairs at the hospital; waiting for any news on Don's condition. Mac kept his eyes focused on the cup he held, wanting to say so much in the situation but too afraid to. 'I'm glad you stayed.'_

_Stella was silent for a minute before she spoke. 'Mac that's what partners do. We take care of each other.' _

_He turned to her and smiled, she returning it; holding onto each other's gaze. Stella was right: that was exactly what they did._

There were so many thoughts in his head. A part of Mac wanted to know that if she was in New Orleans what her new partner was like. Did they share the same things that he and Stella used to? Were they close? He could not help the jealousy that rose within him at these thoughts. Yes he now had Jo but the idea of Stella being with anybody other than him was something which made him feel sick; a reaction that surprised Mac and which he put down to the fact she was his partner for twelve years. Of course he knew the real reason why the thought sickened him, but he would never admit it. He could not admit it. He would not

admit the real reason that the fight had hurt him so much; the real reason that Stella's resignation had left him so lost. It would go against everything that he knew, if he were to admit it. He could not replace what he had once had with Claire; nor did he want to. Nothing could replace the happiness that had been part of his life with her.

If he were to admit the real reason that Stella leaving had hurt him so much, it would open up the barrier he had long fought to keep secured and he could not- would not- allow that to happen. Stella is his friend and partner. _Was_ his friend and partner, he reminded himself bitterly. And that was all he could ever allow her to be.

Yet despite this thought that had quickly become his mantra, he still felt lost without her. She had after all been part of his life for so long. It was like the death of a loved one. Subconsciously, he still believed Stella to be there and he almost expected her to come striding into his office, eager to tell him the latest development in her case. Yet such an event was impossible as after all Stella had gone. It had been the same when Claire had died. He had kept thinking that she would walk into their apartment at any moment. Now he kept expecting to hear the clatter of Stella's heels on the tiled floor, or to hear the sound of her humming to herself as she worked. It was too quiet without her, too different.

There was a big gaping Stella Bonasera-sized hole in his life.

Mac knew it would take a long while; years perhaps, before a new kind of normality was created in his life. But until then he would continue to wander on, existing on a routine purely designed on survival- an instinct long drilled into him since his marine days. Eating, drinking, working, sleeping, it all became mundane, boring. There was no spark in his life. No reason for any of it anymore. All there was to do was to work. It was the only refuge in the dull grey that his world had become.

The guilt ate at him. The unrelenting, savage guilt about the fight gnawed and feasted on him like a beast. Although he would never admit it through his anger, deep down in his heart, he knew with absolute certainty, that it was his fault Stella had resigned in the first place. And that hurt him more than ever could be thought.

'Mac?' It was Flack's call that broke Mac from his reflections.

Suddenly aware that he had been staring at the dead body of a cyclist for longer than was deemed normal even for him, Mac glanced up to Flack who was watching him with barely concealed worry. 'Yeah?'

'Uniforms found some bloody footprints, thought it could be the killer's. They lead from here right down the alleyway over there.' He pointed.

'Ok I'll go check it out.' Mac nodded, and grabbing his evidence kit, did just that, sighing as he did. Life in the New York crime lab and for its CSIs continued on; even without Stella. That was just the way it was in the city; there was no time for reflection or for grieving. Life just had to trundle on; no matter the difficulties. And so that was what Mac Taylor did; he carried on.


	5. A New Case

After flashing his ID badge, Mac ducked under the crime scene tape and headed towards a decrepit alleyway. Mac knew the routine well. As with many other mornings over the course of his career as a CSI he had been woken by a phone call just after five, and after a quick shower and shave, which had been his routine since his military days, he was en-route to the crime scene, weaving in and out of the New York traffic as he made his way downtown.

Even after all the years he found himself unnerved by the crowd of onlookers that had gathered at the crime scene tape as he walked into the alley. He found it difficult to understand the crowd's perverse need to watch as the scene was investigated and the victim wheeled away to the morgue. But he had to remind himself that he had seen much death in the course of his life and he knew the real horrors of it, not the packaged up version the public got when watching crime TV shows.

As he approached the scene he expected to see Stella bouncing towards him, greeting him cheerily before stealing a sip of his coffee he had grabbed on the way. Mac reprimanded himself violently as he reminded himself of the fact that those days were over.

Stella was gone and she was not coming back.

Seeing his new second in command, Mac made eye contact. 'What do we have?'

'Hey Mac. Body of a young female-approximately in her late twenties. No ID. Stabbed in the chest- it would appear by lack of blood pool that she was killed somewhere else then dumped here. Found by a homeless man-he's talking to Flack just now.' Jo gestured and Mac followed her gaze to where a bearded, unkempt man stood, talking to a patient-looking Flack.

'TOD?' Mac questioned, kneeling down beside the woman's body.

The first thing that struck him was the bloodied wound in her chest. For a moment Mac felt a creeping sense of déjà vu as he stared at it. It was a strange shape, obviously not caused by an average blade and Mac was sure he had seen the exact same pattern somewhere before but then he shook his head, his eyes moving away, observing other details. Her glazed green eyes were wide open, staring yet unseeing and her pixie-cut brown hair was messed around her face. Her obviously expensive navy blue business suit was torn in places but there appeared to be no indications of sexual assault despite the defensive bruises that lined her hands and knuckles.

It was Hawkes who replied. 'About three to four hours ago. So approximately two A.M.'

'Found any fingerprints or trace?'

'Trace is bagged but fingerprints are proving difficult. There's a lot of alley to cover Mac.' Jo responded grimly.

'Alright then let's get to work.' Mac walked over to the trashcan behind the woman and began to dust for fingerprints, looking for any sign of any evidence that could lead to the woman's identity and to her murderer and he quickly became absorbed in his work. Around him, Jo and Hawkes became absorbed in their work also, collecting trace samples and helping to load the deceased onto the van which would take her back to Sid and the morgue. The intense concentration Mac found himself in was broken by Don's approaching footsteps and the detective glanced up.

'Hey Mac. Just finished speaking to Bernie over there.' He gestured to the unkempt homeless man. 'He says he's never seen the girl before. Just found her lying there; went to the nearest payphone and called us. Just the usual- didn't see anything but Bernie did tell me something useful.'

Mac raised his eyebrows questioningly.

'He told me that there have been a lot of complaints from the female homeless population and prostitutes about this creepy guy hanging around, hassling the girls so I checked it out with precinct and they confirm that there have been complaints made.'

'You got an ID?' Mac asked.

'Nah but Bernie gave me a description; says the guy is 6ft 2, mid to late 20s, pale Caucasian. Couldn't tell me anymore as the guy wears a dark hooded jacket- hood always up.'

'Sounds suspicious.' Mac mused.

'That's what I thought. I'm gonna take Angell, go and speak to the locals of this area, see if I can find anymore about this guy.'

'Ok you call me if you find anything.'

'Will do Mac.'

After Flack left Mac continued with his processing along with Jo who looked at the scene thoughtfully.

Mac frowned, 'What is it?'

'Oh nothing...it just reminds me a little of my first call out...Found a man lying...' But Mac heard no more as he found himself remembering back to a similar conversation only a few years before.

_He remembered asking, 'Do you remember your first collar?'_

_Stella snickered her response. 'Oh yeah. A shoplifter on 43__rd__ and Eighth Avenue- the guy took one of those "I love New York t-shirts. Proudest moment of my life.' He remembered her laugh; the melodic sound that caused him to shiver even now. 'Two days later I arrested him again.'_

He savagely brought himself back to the present, reprimanding himself for bringing Stella up. Why was it that everything he did _she_ had to be somehow involved? That she had to somehow worm her way into his thoughts? It was bad enough dealing with his feelings of betrayal at her departure but this constant haunting by his memories of her was too much. Suddenly he realised that Jo was talking to him. 'Mac you ok?' She asked concerned.

'Yeah...I'll start processing this end of the alley.' And he quickly walked over and unpacked his kit. Jo watched him closely for a minute, knowing that Mac Taylor was not 'ok'. For a brief minute he had looked so incredibly sad and she wondered just what it was that he had been remembering but knowing she would get no answers, she steeled herself and returned to her processing.

The pair worked diligently and silently for the best part of two hours, collecting samples and fingerprints which would be transported back to the lab for testing. Mac was becoming increasingly weary when something at the end of the alley caught his eye. He walked over to it and kneeled down; staring at it closely, before he picked it up with his gloved hand and brought it to his eyelevel. It appeared to be a bright red, hard fragment of some sort but Mac had no clue to what it was from.

'Mac, you found something?' Jo came over on seeing him hold something.

'It's some sort of red fragment.'

Jo knelt down beside him, furrowing her brow. 'What ya think it is?'

'I have no idea. I'll take it back to the lab with me. You stay here with the uniforms- finish processing the scene.'

'Got it Mac.' Jo nodded, moving off to another part of the alley and processing the area there. As Mac moved out of the alleyway and under the crime scene tape onto the busy street, he was sure that for a brief minute he glimpsed a woman that looked remarkably like Stella standing and watching the crime scene. He felt almost compelled to call out after her but the woman turned slightly and it became clear that she was nothing like Stella.

Mac admonished himself angrily for being so stupid. _'It's not Stella Mac. Stella's got a whole new life in New Orleans. It's just a woman who looks a little like her. Now pull yourself together Detective.' _Even as he stubbornly continued walking towards the vehicle, Mac could not prevent the wave of pain that hit him as he thought about the Greek and how much he missed her.

* * *

As Mac entered the lab corridor, Hawkes came towards him. 'Hey Mac! Got an ID for our vic.' He passed him a file. 'Name's Alison Williams, 28. Lives three blocks from the crime scene. Works as a secretary at the New York Times. Uniforms are informing next of kin and Danny and Lindsay have wrapped up their case so Lindsay is interviewing her colleagues at the newspaper and her friends and Danny is processing her apartment.'

'So it would appear our victim was walking home from work when she was murdered.'

'Yep. I've also had the techs start to analyse the trace and fingerprints we found at the crime scene but I've found some CCTV I thought you and Flack might want to look at.'

Mac followed the younger man to the tech room where Flack stood waiting next to a sitting Adam. 'Alright I found some CCTV of a man in the area who matches the description Bernie gave.'

Adam clicked the screen and the footage began to play. Although parts of the film were fuzzy Mac and Flack were able to see a man leaning against a lamp post, obviously leering at the women who walked past. Like Bernie had described, the man was tall but they were offered a further glance when the guy scratched his head, momentarily lowering his hood to give a glimpse of a man with shoulder-length black hair and a slight beard on his face.

'Put this through facial recognition.' Mac ordered as he began to move away and Adam began to hurriedly type away.

'Hold on Mac there's more.' Hawkes pointed to the screen and Mac watched as their victim Alison Williams walked by, heading homewards. The hooded man glanced at her and then stared as she did so and then looking both ways, as though to check nobody was watching, before he followed the victim, gazing at her intently before he walked out of the camera's line of sight.

'What time was this at?' Flack questioned.

'10pm- less than four hours before TOD. Plenty of time to have grabbed her, murdered her, then dumped her body.'

'Guys I've got an ID.' The three men raised their heads as Adam leant back in the chair. 'Creep's name is Jason Bleutz, 29, squatter. Got priors for drug dealing and for assault. I've forwarded his last known address to you.'

'Thanks Adam.' Flack nodded, taking out his cell and dialling for Angell. 'Hey Jess...yeah got an address.'

* * *

It had taken nearly an hour to locate and arrest Jason Bleutz on suspicion of murder. Both Danny and Lindsay had long since returned, frustrated at having found no leads. Lindsay had discovered from Alison's boss at the newspaper that whilst generally Alison was a dedicated and hard-working employee, recently she had been leaving early and had been distracted from work.

Her best friend had also reported that she had been acting strangely in the last couple of months and that she seemed to be pulling away from her friends and had indeed turned down the offer to be a bridesmaid to one of her closest friends, an action which had shocked everybody who knew her. When asked why she thought Alison was acting this way, her best friend has responded that the most likely scenario was that Alison had met a man.

This in fact had turned out to be true when Alison's Irish fiancé, Sean, had come forward. Lindsay had felt her heart break for the obviously devastated man who had explained that Alison and he had been in a relationship for many years, keeping it secret because of the fact Alison's parents were incredibly conservative and would not have approved of her dating an Irish Catholic. Sean had informed Lindsay that Alison had recently estranged herself from her parents due to a fight and since then they had not spoken one word to another.

When asked about her recent strange behaviour, Sean had chuckled sadly, stating that Alison had been pulling away from her friends due to the fact she was leaving New York to begin a new life with him in Dublin and that she didn't want to make it difficult for them. 'That's who she is.' He had smiled. 'Always putting everyone else first.' His sad smile had dropped and when he spoke again, his voice was angry. 'You find who did this detective and you punish them for it!'

Danny had informed Mac that the apartment had been a dead end. It was obvious Alison had never reached home before she was murdered and there was nothing suspicious and no signs of a struggle. He had collected some personal belongings of Alison's in case they were needed for comparison but it was obvious that the CSI was frustrated. Usually there was something that gave them a lead but there was nothing straightforward about this case. All that was left now was Jason Bleutz.

* * *

Jason Bleutz sat hunched over the interview table, his head resting on his calloused and stained hands which had more scrapes added as a result of his altercation with one of the arresting police officers following a daring, albeit short escape from the NYPD. Flack had to admit he was impressed with Jason's record; his first arrest had been at the age of thirteen for drug possession which had escalated to drug dealing at sixteen, burglary at twenty, assault at twenty-five and now it seemed, murder was to be added to the list.

'So Jason, why'd you run?' He questioned as Mac entered the room.

'In my world, ya see a cop ya go the other direction. You cops have a habit of planting shit.' Jason leant back in his chair, defensively, his sleeves rolling up to expose his heavily inked arms.

'In my books running usually means your guilty- that and the fact you assaulted a police officer who tried to apprehend you.' Flack leaned forwards in order to intimidate their suspect.

'Well you know what they say you have to strike hard at vermin.' Jason smirked. 'And besides I'm gonna press a complaint about heavy handedness of police methods.

Mac ignored his weak threats and he too leaned forward. 'You have priors for drug possession, dealing and assault and now it would appear you've added murder to your list Jason.'

'Murder? What the hell you talkin' about? I ain't murdered noone! What the hell you try'na pin on me now?'

'I'm talking about the murder of Alison Williams.' Mac spoke coldly.

'Never heard of them.' Jason spat out.

Mac placed the printed out pictures from the CCTV on the table in front of Jason. 'These are CCTV images of you following Alison Williams at 10pm- four hours before her death. That gives you plenty of time to have murdered her then dumped her body in this alley.' He placed another picture on the table-this time of the murder scene.

'Why'd you do it Jason huh?' It was Flack who now spoke. 'You get tired of harassing the local prostitutes so you went after a nice, successful young woman? You were looking for a bit of fun so you followed her but when she turned down your advances you got angry and you stabbed her.'

'NO! No man not me.' Jason shook his head violently. 'Ok I admit I followed her but I did nothing to her I swear. Ok so maybe I was looking for a little fun y'know.' He gestured, smirking as he did. 'But when I tried to, the bitch attacked me, clawing at my hands and shrieking so I ran for it. The last I saw of her she was running away from me further down the street outside a' Johnny's the takeaway. Ask him.'

'Oh we will Jason.' Flack intoned.

'This mean I can go?' He sat back in his chair.

'Not until we clarify your alibi.' Mac answered, walking to the door with Flack but before he left he looked at the uniform officer. 'Book him for attempted assault.' And he and Flack exited the room under a chorus of Jason's curses.

Once out both men stopped and the younger detective turned to Mac. 'You believe his story?'

'I guess we'll have to see what Johnny says.'

* * *

'Yep I know him. Slimy little fella. Seen him hassling the girls, including Sarah over there.' Johnny Marco, the owner of 'Johnny's' pointed to the pretty, red-head teen who was cheerfully handing over takeaways of rich smelling pizzas, fresh from the wood-stove oven. Jo and Lindsey nodded as the cheery, overweight and balding proprietor spoke in his thick Italian-American accent. Immediately on their arrival, Johnny had greeted them and since then he had been more than helpful in their investigation.

'Did you see him with this woman?' Jo asked, producing another image, this time of Ally.

'Yeah...god that's the woman from the news isn't it?'

Lindsey nodded her response.

'Such a shame, pretty girl. Yeah I saw her. That creep seemed to be chasing her but she gave him a good slap and then ran off. He didn't follow her though.'

'You're sure?' Lindsey questioned.

'Definitely. Although it was busy, I noticed that he lingered about before going off in the opposite direction. I hope this helps.' He smiled apologetically.

'It does, thank you.' Jo smiled.

'No problem, anytime. I hope you catch the bastard who killed that woman.'

'We will.' Lindsay called in response as she and Jo exited the takeaway and out into the bustling street.

'Well it looks like Jason is off the hook.' Jo nodded in frustration to Lindsay's comment.

* * *

Mac examined the crime scene photos in frustration whilst the rest of his team were busy analysing and testing the evidence they had collected from the alleyway. Much to Flack's chagrin, Jason Bleutz had been bailed due to his alibi checking out and now he and Angell were following up any leads relating to sexual offenders in the area and also looking for any possible motives in Alison Williams' personal life.

Despite this hive of activity, Mac was frustrated. So far, after almost twenty-four hours of investigation they were finding no definite leads and their murderer was out there, evading them and evading justice.

As he eyed the photos, he frowned. There was something about the murder that seemed almost familiar to Mac, as though he had seen it before but his mind was failing to come up with any definite answers. It was something about the pattern the weapon had caused. It was familiar yet it was lost in the fog of his mind. Mac shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He leant over his desk and grabbed his coat, deciding to head out into the evening air to buy coffee in the hope that would assist in solving the mystery of why the case was so familiar.

* * *

The evening air hung around him like a blanket of ice yet despite only being clothed in thin garments, the man did not feel it. Instead, he stood in the shadows of the side-walk, intently observing the man buying coffee in the neon-lit cafe. It had been many years since he had last set eyes on Mac Taylor and yet the detective had barely changed except perhaps for the increased number of tight lines around his eyes. He had been anxious for a glimpse of the Detective for many years- perhaps due to his curiosity to discover what had become of his adversary, the man who had ten years previous come so close to capturing him.

Ever since Mac had been called to the crime scene, the man had been cautiously observing him in sick obsession. There were new faces on his team, many new faces but that was unsurprising considering the time that had passed since their last encounters. The man knew their names of course, he had been following Mac Taylor's life and career very closely for the last decade, memorising every newspaper cutting and television appearance the Detective made.

But what surprised the man the most was the absence of the woman. In the old days, during his last stay in New York, she had been constantly at Mac Taylor's side, laughing and discussing with him. She was absolutely beautiful and he had found himself to be in awe of her fire and her determination. Like her partner, she was the perfect adversary. Had it not been for her determination he would have never left New York in the first place and for her to no longer be around to witness his new masterpiece of terror was something which admittedly caused him a great deal of dissatisfaction.

Yet despite her absence, Mac Taylor was still around, doggedly defending justice and he would once more be the perfect witness to his reign of terror.

Finally it was time. And with that thought in mind, the man smiled cruelly before disappearing once more into the shadows of the night.

* * *

**Once again all support is appreciated. I have to warn you that unfortunately updates will become even more sporadic than they already are (something I'm terribly sorry about) due to the fact I am beginning university and therefore am yet unable to determine how much time I will have to spend on the uploading of my fics. But please bear with me; Bete Noire will be uploaded in its entirety eventually. Thank you.**


	6. What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted?

**Thanks for the reviews- I'm glad there are at least some reading this. So I managed to fit in a chapter during Freshers Week but as stated in the previous chapter, updates will be periodic as I adjust to my new life.**

**Chapter is inspired by the song 'What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted?' by Jimmy Ruffin.**

* * *

The noise was unbearable. Horns blared and heavy, choking exhaust fumes filled the air, clouding the grid-locked roads for miles. The pavements were no better; people weaved in and out of each other, shoving and bumping in an attempt to reach their destination. The New York rush-hour was a world of chaos.

Stella Bonasera expertly weaved in and out of her fellow pedestrians, striding smartly along the pavement and the many crossings just as she had done every day since childhood. Being a city-girl, she was well-versed in the chaos of rush-hour and it no longer fazed her. Managing to keep a hold of her coffee cup as a business man bumped into her, she turned right down an avenue and continued walking. Finally she reached her destination- a smart-looking coffee shop which was packed. The door chime tinkled as she entered and immediately she was greeted by her boss Kate.

'Morning Stella.'

'Morning Kate. Looks like it's gonna be a busy day. I'll be out in a minute.' She grinned, heading to the back and to the employee's lockers. On reaching the silent staffroom, Stella sighed deeply, taking a minute to regain her breathing and to mentally prepare her for the rush of the day ahead.

It had been four months since she had resigned from the crime lab. Four months yet it felt like an eternity. For twelve years the lab had been her home and her heart ached with regret and sorrow for the life she had left behind. She constantly wondered about her old friends. Of course she would have long since been replaced and no doubt the CSIs had long forgotten her amidst the rush and pressures of solving crimes but she could never forget them- her dysfunctional and mad family. She missed them all. Lindsay's friendship, Danny's banter, Adam's friendliness, Jess's advice, Sheldon's genius, Sid's eccentricities, Don's witty comebacks...but most of all she missed Mac.

Quickly she swallowed back tears and she felt her chest constrict in pain as she saw his face in her head. The pain was unbearable; it was piercing, crushing and stabbing. It felt as though her heart was being pulled apart into thousands upon thousands of pieces. Her life had become worthless, meaningless-a shell of what it once was. For almost twelve years she had been living in agony but the pain of the last four months was the epitome of hell.

Four months had passed and yet the hateful words spoken in their fight still burned her to the very core and still she could feel the fiery imprint of his hand upon her cheek. She hadn't meant to bring Claire into it. She knew it was wrong; so wrong but her temper had taken control and she had so callously uttered the words. When Mac had struck her, it had felt as though her heart had been ripped out of her chest. It had left her absolutely numb and filled with hatred towards herself for the knowledge that it had been her who had hurt him so. His abhorrence of her was no match for the loathing she herself felt at her own actions. She couldn't bear to face anybody. She so desperately wanted to disappear. And that was why she had fled.

After turning down the head of lab offer at New Orleans, she had sold her apartment, leaving behind one of the few places she had ever called home and moving to the other side of town, far from the lab. Her new apartment was bear, devoid of any belongings that would remind her of the lab or of Mac. Knowing that she could not survive on her savings alone, Stella's next step had been to find a job and after being turned down from many on the account of being overqualified, she finally found a shop as a barista in a coffee-shop.

It was a far cry from her past life and yet she had quickly fitted in, despite her reluctance to talk of herself. Her main aim in life was to keep a low profile, away from the possibility of any of her former friends and colleagues finding out her location. It was not easy to live under the radar but so far she was coping. She paid in cash and was paid by her work in cash so as not to alert Adam if he was monitoring her bank accounts and kept herself to herself, preferring not to socialise out with her work.

Her life had become a dull and monotonous routine-devoid of all meaning, and free from any of the past danger or excitement that a CSI faced. She woke up, ate a sparse breakfast, walked into work, worked till six, returned home, ate, cried and then slept. She would hardly call it living but it was what her life consisted of now. Her heart ached constantly- the only thing which helped her temporarily forget some of the pain was her work which she actually enjoyed due to interacting with the customers who came in and because of her colleagues, who although not like family to her, she was still able to enjoy a laugh with. She deliberately took as many shifts as she could from her boss Kate as it proved to be the only thing that could take her mind off of her heartache.

Even sleep which had so long been a refuge from the horror she had witnessed during her life, was no longer a comfort. Every time she closed her eyes Mac was there, his face plastered in a terrifying expression of hatred, the very same expression he wore when he slapped her. Every night she was reduced for tears and because of her experiences, Stella had developed a fear of sleeping and so did anything in her power to postpone the inevitable. Her life had become devoid of all happiness and laughter and was now plagued by loneliness and her memories; memories of the team, memories of the lab, but most of all memories of Mac.

_They were walking alongside one another when she asked him 'Come on, didn't you ever tie a towel around your neck when you were a kid and pretend to be a superhero? A little Mac-Man maybe?_

_Mac smirked. 'Sergeant Rock. You couldn't get me out of fatigues.'_

She remembered grinning at him in response as he smirked and even now she could still feel the fluttering of her heart at his words.

Oh how she had been so naive to think that Mac actually cared for her; to believe for even a glancing moment that Mac Taylor would have any feelings for her. The voice inside her head however could not help but torture her with memories of Mac following her to Greece and the conversation they had had about her conduct.

Her heart had physically leapt when he had said that he cared for her that but she knew now those words to be false. He didn't care; his only concern was to ensure that one of his people didn't cause an international incident. It was all purely professional; there was no other meaning to his words. They had all be false. Everything had been a lie.

There was one more memory that constantly plagued her; one of another fight she and Mac had had when on a case dealing with the shooting of a cop. She had been furious with Mac on discovering he was stalling on removing a bullet from the horse of the murdered cop.

_She walked up to Mac and shoving the gun in his face, barked 'Surplus issued AR15 semiautomatic gas operated shoulder rifle. Capable magazine 5-40 rounds. In Stella talk it's time to get the bullet out of the horse. End of conversation.'_

Later in the day they had, as they always did, made up.

_As the both put on their uniforms, they smiled at each other. _

'_We haven't had a fight like that in a long time.' She had paused. 'Reminds me of the old Mac Taylor.'_

_Mac turned towards her. 'What Mac Taylor is that?'_

_She looked to him. 'The one who let his heart out of his chest every once in a while.'_

_Mac glanced down before looking once more at her. 'You're a fine CSI Stella. I could honestly say I couldn't do this job without you.'_

_She smiled. 'Yes you would.'_

_Mac looked surprised._

'_You just wouldn't be as good.' They both smiled._

'_Maybe.'_

'_Friends?' Stella offered her hands._

_Mac accepted. 'Friends.'_

Stella's eyes filled with tears for the past. If only that was the case now. If only they were still friends. She missed him so very much. Every fibre of her being ached with the pain she felt, ached with the heartache. Leaving the lab had supposed to have stopped her feeling this way but she had never envisioned the fight or its consequences and now the heartbreak had worsened.

'Stella?' The voice of her boss broke her from her thoughts and Stella quickly stood up and locked her locker.

'Just coming Kate. Sorry got a little distracted.' She called, faking a laugh before briskly walking out of the room, heading for the front.

Stella smiled sadly to herself. Although she enjoyed working as a barista, she just wanted everything to go back to how it was. But she knew that time could never be turned back. This was the path she had chosen and no matter how much it hurt, she had to endure and survive. She had a new life now, away from the lab and away from Mac. And with that thought in mind, Stella took a deep breath and faking a smile, she headed out into the front for another day. Another day without Mac.


	7. The Investigation Continues

It had been twenty-six hours since they had begun the investigation into Alison Williams' death and the team sat around the conference table, digging into their breakfast whilst discussing the evidence they had so far discovered.

It was Lindsay who began. 'I've analysed the fingerprints we found in the alley but there's so many that it's proving difficult to determine which may belong to our killer. And the fact there were no fingerprints surrounding the body or on the victim to compare with is making it even more difficult.'

'Yeah I'm having the same problem with trace in the alley. Too big a footfall is proving problematic.' Hawkes continued.

Adam spoke whilst munching a slice of toast. 'Uh...I've been checking all the CCTV footage from the week leading up to the murder and also of Alison on the day but there doesn't appear to be anyone following her and the vic seems to be acting normal.'

'Yeah this is what doesn't make sense. Alison Williams seems like a genuinely nice person. She has a loving fiancé, good friends and was about to start a fresh life in Ireland. She just doesn't seem to be the sort to have any enemies.' Jo leaned forward, stealing an apple from the middle of the table.

'What about the estrangement with her family?' Lindsay asked.

Angell cut in, 'Don and I talked to her parents and her older sister and they admitted that things have been strained between them and that they weren't talkin'...but they seemed genuinely devastated about her death.'

'Yeah that and their alibis check out. The parents were at a neighbourhood party 'til the back of one and the sister was at her home in Virginia.' Flack sipped his coffee.

'What about that red shard that was found. Anything on it?' Hawkes questioned.

'I ran it through the database and got a match.' Danny swiftly answered. 'It's from the handle of a small screwdriver, used in all sorts of industries. It could have come from anywhere.'

Adam asked. 'You think it was transferred from the killer?'

Jo nodded. 'It would appear so. It was out of place in the alley. I saw no other objects like it so it would seem that the only way it could have got there were if the killer himself had transferred it.'

'I have more.' Danny grinned, pleased with the evidence he had discovered. 'When I was examining the vic's clothes I found a black stain on the bottom of her trousers. I analysed it and it turned out to be gasoline. I also found traces of industrial paint and sawdust.'

'So she was somewhere that has some sort of construction or industry. That could suggest that our suspect works in an industry of some sort.' Jo raised her eyebrows at the development.

'Uh huh.' Danny nodded.

The team glanced to Mac who had hardly spoken throughout their discussion; something which had become a regular occurrence since Stella's departure. Before, Mac had always inputted but now he preferred to remain on the sidelines, only offering opinions when directly asked. Mac, noticing the stares directed at him, stood up, walking towards the evidence board.

'We have a four hour window from when Alison Williams was last seen alive and when her body was discovered in the alley. We know by lack of blood at the scene that the alley was not the primary crime scene. Our priority now is finding the primary scene and establishing the murder weapon. We find the scene and the weapon, we find the murderer.'

* * *

Mac was finding it difficult to control his ever-increasing frustration as he stood in front of the large screen looking at the images Hawkes had taken of the stab wound. It was a unique pattern, obviously caused by a specialised blade. Sid was in the middle of the autopsy and had promised to call after examining the wound but Mac was reluctant to wait. There was something about the wound...something that almost seemed to spark a memory. Mac deepened his frown.

'_Pou eisai esi vre file? Skeftesei kat kai ksero pou thelis na me to pis.'_ Stella's voice invaded his thoughts.  
_Mac raised his eyebrow, 'And in English?'  
'What the hell's buggin' ya Mac?' She smirked.  
He returned the smirk. 'Sounds so much better in Greek.'  
Smiling, Stella replied, 'Yeah, most things do.'_

Yes the wound was definitely familiar. For a moment Mac almost remembered where he had seen it before, but it was gone again in an instance, fading back into the fog of his mind.

He glanced down at the computer screen beside him which was running the images through every weapon database in the country looking for any match. So far the database had compared it to kitchen knives, other household blades, gang weapons and yet, within the thousands of entries, there was still nothing.

Now the database had begun to compare industrial blades but for some reason Mac just knew that they were not going to get any results from that either. Suddenly, out of nowhere in his mind an image came to him- an image of him standing at a crime scene in the pouring rain, overlooking the body of a young woman. He saw that she lay on grass, her eyes staring up in the air unseeing and a gaping stab wound in her chest. Before despite the effort he put in trying to remember the specifics of the grisly murder, his mind was unable to recall the case that Alison William's death so eerily copied.

Under his breath, he cursed his aging mind and stepped closer to the board so that he was only a nose width away from the image, trying desperately to help his brain remember exactly where he had seen this before. The pattern was significant but try as he might he just couldn't quite place it.

The ringing of his cell disturbed his concentration and he tore his eyes away from the images, looking down at the caller ID to see that it was autopsy. 'Taylor.' He listened as Sid spoke.

'Sure Sid, I'll be right down.'

Sighing in heightened frustration he took one last look at the images before heading down to autopsy.

* * *

It had taken him a long time to locate her. She had hidden herself well and he would admit to being surprised at just where he had finally found her. It was one of the last places he would have expected a woman like her to have wound up. Obviously she was running from something and had done her best to maintain a low profile but for a man who had been running for a long time, he knew the life well and that was what had led to him eventually finding her.

He had been upset to discover that his two greatest adversaries were no longer partners on his return to the city but this had now given away to intrigue as to the reasons why they were no longer partners. Before, they had been inseparable and yet this had all changed. It was unexpected even after an absence of ten years. He had always had a perverse desire to get inside their heads, to know what it was that they both thought, to know all of their weaknesses and darkest secrets but this new-found knowledge only heightened this desire.

As he followed the woman to and from work, he found himself once again being captivated by her. She was a formidable opponent. Even though she was no longer a detective she would still put up an incredible fight if he deigned to take her. As much as he found that fantasy a pleasurable idea, he knew now was not the right moment. He had other, more important work to do. Already it was taking Mac Taylor too long to figure that he had returned, a situation which disappointed him yet provided him with an excuse for another victim. As much as he longed for it to be the woman he desired, it was not the right time.

Not yet anyway. Not without including Mac Taylor in his little fantasy. He had chosen another woman. A woman who for the time being was alive and well, but how quickly that situation would change, he smirked to himself. It was only a matter of time until Mac Taylor figured out that he had returned and then, he grinned coldly to himself, their little game he had begun a decade ago would recommence but this time with the added involvement of the female detective.

He wondered just how the great Mac Taylor would react to that news. It was obvious that the two detectives were no longer close but still they shared a bond impossible to ignore. It would provide him great entertainment to see just how far Mac Taylor would go to save his precious Stella Bonasera. But that time had not yet come and so he would have to wait until the right time to strike.

* * *

Stella glanced behind her as she arrived at the entrance to her apartment building. Around her the streets were filled with people on their way home for the night and despite the apparent busyness and normality of the evening, Stella's senses were telling her something was off. For the last few days Stella had had a strange feeling, as though she was being watched.

Instincts which had been instilled in her even before her time at the police academy told her that she was being followed but every time that she had looked behind or around her, there had been nothing suspicious. She wanted to dismiss it as paranoia but every time she left the apartment she had the same unnerving feeling and it was beginning to affect her nerves. Indeed Kate had noticed she had been slightly distracted at work and had questioned her on it but Stella was reluctant to voice her fears as she knew how unbelievable it all sounded. She had tried to convince herself that it was because of her concerns about the lab discovering where she was but as time passed she became more and more unsure.

Whilst leaving for work that morning she had been convinced that she had seen a hooded figure standing across the street, staring directly at her flat only for them to quickly disappear when they caught her staring at them. Then again, whilst waiting to cross a junction, she had thought she had seen the same hooded figure again but they had soon disappeared into the crowds and she had quickly dismissed the idea. It was coincidence that was all. Yet despite this, the uneasiness remained and Stella, as a precautionary measure at night, found herself double locking her door and placing her gun on the bedside cabinet as she slept.

She knew it was an overreaction and she was just paranoid but that simple act relieved some of her uneasiness and made her feel safe. However unknown to Stella, she was in more danger than she could ever possibly imagine.

* * *

'Hey Sid what have you got?' Mac asked as he walked into autopsy.

'Oh hey Mac. Just finished the autopsy on our vic here. Cause of death was as we thought- massive internal bleeding due to trauma caused by some sort of blade. I've examined the wound thoroughly Mac and I have to tell you I've never seen anything like it before. I have absolutely no idea what this weapon is. The preciseness of the wound suggests that our killer knew exactly what he was doing and that she bled out in minutes. I'd say he's killed before.'

For some unexplained reason, Mac's stomach clenched as a creeping sense of déjà vu came over him. He cleared his throat, 'What else have you got Sid?'

'The abrasions on her wrists and ankles suggest she was bound, most probably by chains. I also completed a sex kit on her and it came back negative.'

Mac nodded, turning to the exit, 'Thanks Sid.'

'Wait Mac, there's something you really need to see. Something...well I can't describe it. It wasn't noticeable because at the scene the body wasn't moved onto her front and her clothes were still on her. You...you need to have a look yourself.' The tone in his voice was one of fear.

Looking back, Mac would always say that he had known something was dreadfully wrong when he entered autopsy. There had been an atmosphere of anticipation and almost dread as though some evil was lurking, waiting to reveal its hand. In fact, Mac would even say he knew something was wrong the minute he had first arrived at the crime scene of Alison William's murder.

He had known all along that something was wrong; that something did not feel right. It was almost as though fate had played a hand. And looking back all he could remember was the abject fear as he stood there, frozen in horror at the sight before him.

There was writing all over Alison's body; cruel and offensive words decorated every part of her skin, carved by a blade. It was a sickening sight. Mac knew without Sid having to tell him that they had been written in whilst Alison was still alive and that in her final moments of life, filled with terror she was forced to listen to her captor as he degraded her and violated her in such a sadistic and depraved manner.

The scene was utterly horrifying. And in that moment it all made terrifying sense; the crime scene...the familiarity of the wound pattern but most of all the taunts which Mac knew were not written on her as part of anything Alison Williams' had done, but rather it was part of what _he_ forced his victims to endure.

In the intense paralysis he found himself in, Mac was unaware of Sid's worried calls, or of anything happening in autopsy, everything else was inconsequential in the face of this horrific revelation.

For ten years the nightmare had remained hidden and now it had returned. There was only one thought that could penetrate his frozen mind and Mac found himself whispering, 'He's back.'

* * *

**Leave a little review, please? You know you want to...**


	8. The Taunter

News of Sid's discovery had spread like wildfire through the lab and when Mac called an emergency meeting of the team; their suspicions about the seriousness of the events were confirmed. As each of the team entered they found Mac standing at the front of the evidence board with a serious frown on his face. Mac watched his obviously curious team enter one by one. First Danny and Lindsay then Adam then Hawkes then Flack and Angell and then finally Jo took her place round the table.

Once sure that everybody was comfortable, Mac began to speak. 'By now you'll all know about Sid's findings. The taunts that were written on Alison's body are the trademark of a serial killer known as 'the Taunter'. At his words the team straightened and Flack and Lindsay sat forward in the chairs.

'The Taunter? Never heard of him.' Angell frowned slightly.

'It's long before your time.' Mac looked to her.

'I've heard of him. Wasn't he active ten years ago in this city? Killed eight women. I haven't heard anything about him since.' Jo spoke, her profiler training picking up the tight lines around Mac's eyes and the deeper than usual frown on his face.

Mac nodded. 'Ten years ago I was the lead investigator in the murder of this woman, Alina Kojocaru.' A picture of a beautiful young brunette with blue eyes came up on the smartboard screen. 'Alina was twenty-three years old, a refugee from Romania and an art student. To begin with our investigation led us to examine her past in Romania but our focus swiftly changed when we received the results of her autopsy and discovered the taunts written across her body. As you can imagine such a discovery was shocking and led us to start a completely new investigation. Because of the uniqueness of the murder, we searched through the databases for any matches to our scene and found another possible victim, Sandra Harrison.'

Another picture popped up, this time of an African American woman. 'Aged thirty eight, married, two children. Last seen walking home from her work as a chef at a restaurant when she disappeared. She had been stabbed to death three months before in what was believed to have been a mugging gone wrong but after exhuming her body and re-autopsying it, we discovered she too had taunts on her body.' He exhaled sharply. 'It was then that we suspected we had a serial killer on our hands.'

'Yeah I remember this.' Flack nodded, 'The department tried to keep it quiet but it was leaked and it started off a panic and the killings started to escalate.'

'That's right. His final toll was eight women in four months. Victimology was different in every case-different ages, different races, different backgrounds and different socio-economic groups. The only link they had was that they were female.'

'Did you have any suspects?' Lindsay asked.

'Yeah we had four main suspects.' The pictures of four men now popped up on screen. Our first suspect was Jordan Marks, aged 29, a resident of the Bronx, had priors for assault and stalking-related offences.' The picture that belonged to the name was of a brute of a guy, with a fat face and shaven head. Tattoos lined his arms and shoulders, a myriad of ink designs and colours that only added to his ferocious appearance. Mac continued as each team member absorbed the details of the file on screen. 'We ruled out Marks following interviews as we discovered that he had alibis for both murders.'

A second picture popped up. 'Second suspect was Marcus Whaite, 35. He was an English teacher at the college Alina Kojocaru attended. He had been arrested for allegedly attacking a female pupil at his previous work but there was not enough evidence to ever charge him. According to several of Alina's classmates, Marcus had asked her out on a date and she had refused and he had become violent in response. He didn't have an alibi at the time of either murder so we brought him in but he lawyered up and we had to let him go.'

'Third suspect was Hector Gonzales.' The third picture popped up of a creepy-looking pale man with greasy hair and rounded glasses. 'Aged thirty four. He was single, unemployed, fit the profile of being a loner, and had previous convictions for stalking. He became a suspect following an anonymous tip off from a member of the public. We raided his flat to discover that his living room was covered in newspaper cuttings of the case.'

'He sounds like a right creep, what evidence did you have against him?' Jo asked.

Everything was circumstantial so we had no choice but to let him go. Shortly after that the murders stopped.'

'Our final suspect was Ethan Hoe.' A picture of an overweight, balding, fifty plus man graced the board. 'He was connected to our third victim, 54-year old Lucy Laurence who went was found dead three weeks after Alina Kojocaru. They had been having an affair when Lucy dumped him for another man- he had reportedly made threats against her and he too had a history of violence against women including several claims of spousal abuse. We also found a connection to the other victims through his takeaway business which both the previous vics had frequented. However, again there was not enough evidence to pursue it further and then the killings stopped.

'It just doesn't seem like any of these guys fit the typical portrait of a serial killer.' Jo spoke again.

'No but at the time we had very little to go on so we were jumping on any connection. The Taunter always did and to this day, remains a step in front of us.'

'How do we know it's not a copycat?' Danny asked.

'The handwriting on the bodies is identical to the Taunter's and the murder weapon is the same. It can't be a copy cat because we never revealed to the press just how the victims died. We didn't want to create more panic in what was already a difficult environment.'

'What do you need us to do Mac?' Flack asked.

'From now on we need to make this a priority. This is our only case. He's been out there ten years already- we need to stop him before he kills again. Flack, Angell I need you to pursue leads on our original suspects and search whether there has been any murders with similar MOs in the last decade.' The couple nodded. 'Lindsay, Danny, Hawkes work on the evidence. Adam keep pursuing CCTV footage and access the bank records and personal files of Allison Williams- see if anything stands out...Jo use your profiler skills, see what you can make of the original case.'

'Sure thing Mac.' She smiled as the rest of the team got up, leaving the room to pursue their various tasks.

'Mac?' Lindsay called, before she left. 'Who was your partner on the case? It would be useful if they could share their thoughts on the evidence just so we don't overlook anything trivial.' Mac was silent for a long moment. He had been dreading that question, unwilling to even mutter her name. Finally he came to a compromise and cleared his throat. 'Detective Bonasera was my partner on the case.'

Lindsay's expression softened slightly. 'You should give her a call Mac. She can help us.'

The reasonable part of Mac knew that Lindsay was right, but he felt a foreign feeling of anger erupt in his throat at the thought of...Ste...of that woman and he barely resisted the urge to bark at Lindsay. 'No that won't be necessary.'

Lindsay, unaware of the conflict building inside Mac continued. 'She can help us Mac. Give us more insight into this case.'

'I SAID NO LINDSAY.' Mac barked at her, causing her to fall silent immediately and cower slightly at the fury emanating from her boss. 'I'm the boss of this lab, it's my decision is that clear?' He looked pointedly at her.

'Yes...Mac.' Lindsay stuttered out, shocked by his response.

Unwilling to discuss further, Mac stormed off, leaving very shocked CSIs behind. Danny took Lindsay into his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

'It'll get better. He'll call her, I know he will.'

Lindsay nodded mutely, not at all convinced.

* * *

He grinned as the woman screamed as he cut another incision into her back, forming the cruel taunts that he got his name from.

Oh how he had enjoyed the notoriety. For ten years he had been in the dark, once more a nobody, but this would all so very soon change and he would regain his rightful reputation. He could see it all so clearly; the terror on the streets, the panic that would sweep the city, the legions of fans who admired his artwork. Everybody would be bowing at his feet, he would be truly unstoppable.

Suddenly a bolt of pain ripped through his back as if to remind him of all that had changed and in retaliation he pressed the knife harder into the girl's skin. She gave a loud shriek, as if sensing how close he was to finishing his masterpiece. They always gave up towards the end, even the strongest of them.

An involuntary grin spread across his lips as he thought of the Detective. He had no doubt she would struggle; and struggle hard. It always increased his pleasure and enjoyment if they did, but she would be quite something else. She would put up one hell of a fight and for that she was very much worth the wait. But he had others to attend to first. He glanced down to the floor next to his feet where the other girl lay, bound and helpless, awaiting the same fate that was moments away from befalling her sister. He then glanced back to the ever-weakening woman in front of him and smiled at the sight of her blood loss.

It was time. Suddenly and ruthlessly, he pierced her with his blade causing both girls to screech in horror before the girl on the table fell silent for the last time. And then he laughed. _Come and get me Detective Taylor._


End file.
